Deep in a dream of you
by TheRealRogue
Summary: ROMY (Rogue Gambit) Life and choice have brought them together and apart several times through the years. Rogue goes over their intermittent relationship during a dream, a stupor or a state that is in between being awake and asleep, not knowing if she'll ever see him again.
1. Chapter 1: There's a light that never

Disclaimer: I don't own the X-Men!

 **Note: Hi guys! For this fic, I wanted to use a song for each chapter, so each chap will be titled as a song that I like for the mood of it. This one is by The Smiths. Btw, I remember little ago, rereading some of my older fics, I thought "why did I use songs in this fic? It's kind of silly". Well, now I'm doing it exactly that again, but I just feel like it. And I think writing and any form of art (if these things I write can be called art) is more about emotions and about feeling, than about thinking. All that said! Here we go.**

Chapter 1: There's a light that never goes out

Why am I here, Remy? How did I get here?

I remember this place very well, though it was about a lifetime ago. The white tiles, the blue booths, the mirror from one edge of the wall to the other. I've repeated this night in my head thousands of times, sometimes lulling myself to sleep with it. Why not one more time?

But now I'm here. I'm sitting here, taking short sips from this glass of tap water and I didn't see you arrive. I don't know if you were here before me, I just know I raise my eyes and you're sitting across several tables, staring at me. You smile at me, remember that? More like, smirk, so I look away. It's just not the best day to go and flirt with some random person, you know? So I just sink in my seat a bit more. I try to think, what will I do?, should I go back?, but I'm mostly blank. It's overwhelming when you want to do something for so long, and you finally do it, but then you're face to face with the _now what?_ Options studied backwards and forwards, but that fall flat every time.

Why am I even here, anyway? Precisely here?

You come and sit at my table, in front of me, just like that. So you. Many times I've wished you'd never done that, or that I had got away, simply cut things off at their very start. But how would I have known? If we knew the consequences of stuff, right the moment they're happening, we'd stop in our tracks or jump right at it, whatever was best.

What am I saying? Even now, knowing what will happen, I'd stay once again. I do.

I do.

You don't say anything, which is unusual, 'cause you don't really have an off switch for shutting up, do you? You just rest your back against the booth and keep on staring at me, so sure of yourself.

I should have got away, while I still had the chance.

This moment, your eyes on mine for the first time…

I'm there, but I'm also here.

"May I help you?" I ask, slightly annoyed but mostly taken aback.

" _Oui, s'il vous plait_ " you lean forward, elbows on the table: "What's your name?"

I'm too messed up for this shit right now.

However, the rude words don't come out. Guess I was too tired or… sickened.

"How does that help yah?"

"Helps me know y' better".

You take the salt shaker, pour some on the tip of a finger and taste it.

" _Better?_ 'Cause, yah know me already, right?"

" _Non_ , but I see y'. I see your teary eyes, your reddened lil' nose. Backpack, glass of water. Y're going somewhere. Y' just don't know where to."

Funny, your face looks so young here. I mean, similar, of course, just less… well, we were kids. Have we got so old? When? I'm still 16, I'm still sitting here, letting you in.

"Congratulations, Sherlock. Now scat."

No, really.

You shake your head, as if figuring something out: "Can't."

I sigh and brace myself even more, here, inside the big, warm jacket: "Great".

"Like it or not, _cherie_ , we have a relationship now."

Now you spread your arms on the backrest.

"What?"  
"A relationship, of a sort. We ain't strangers no more, all I need's your name and we'll be acquaintances, which I think's a nice start. What's your name?"

So many opportunities I had to ditch you. This was a golden one.

"Rogue."

"Remy, nice to meet y'." I squeeze your hand hard, don't want you to think I'm a little lost girl. There's that music. I knew it was there. "Now, y' gonna tell me what's wrong?"

Then again, many times I've wondered why in Jesus Jones I went along with everything that came next. It wasn't that I was sad, it wasn't your oh so famous smooth talk. I think it was more like pieces fitting alright, you and I; two meteorites crashing somewhere in the Universe, improbable but definite.

Wish I could write all this crap I'm rambling about. I will, once I'm out of here.

I open the trailer's door and go up the steps carefully, 'cause I know the exact spots where they squeak. You stay outside. It's dark but I know, I still know every corner.

"Mom."

She turns to me, frightened, then takes a look at the bottom, there, where their bed is.

"Where were yah?" she whispers and puts aside the man's shoe she was unsuccessfully attempting to polish.

"Mom, come with me."

It hurts me to see the bruise on her cheek, purple, red, green, a melting pot of colors and pain.

"What're yah talkin' 'bout? Go to bed 'fore he wakes up."

My bed, or the cot I call bed, is at the opposite side. I don't plan to sleep there ever again.

"Mom, come. With me. Now."

"But…"

"No buts. Yah don't deserve this. He…" God, mom. Why did you have to…? "He tried to… touch me last night, 'kay? We have to go, now."

What makes someone act the way she did? Or, better, not act at all, as if she had no willpower? Low self esteem, like shrinks say?

"Well… yah know how he gets when he drinks, he'll just…"

I was about to raise hell on her and drag her out, take her with me God knows where.

But he did wake up.

I don't like this part.

I don't know what he says. He just shouts and grumbles.

"We're leaving, mom, pick up your stuff and let's go."

He grabs her by the hair and tosses her against the bed, then turns to me right on time to receive my fist in his jaw. I think this was the first time I ever hit anyone, and it wouldn't be the last. It makes him lose balance for a moment, maybe mostly because of the shock of what I just did. But he's too big to be actually hurt.

I do understand what he says next:

"Yah little bitch, now I'll show yah."

"Sir!" At the moment I was too angry to think or to recognize anything at all, but now, I wanna hold on to your voice and hide in there from the image of all of this: "Excuse me but I can't let y' treat two ladies like this."

The look on the man's face.

"Who the fuck is this? Is he screwing yah?"

You and I, Remy, had sort of a rough start, that's for sure. This isn't the best type of context you would expect two people start getting to know each other. And it's so weird to be here again, as he grabs me by the shoulders and pretty much spits his liquor breath on me, but you get him off of me right away and kick his ass. I see that poker card coming out of nowhere, gleaming in red out of the blue and being the final touch to the already beaten up man.

Before this, I don't think I knew about mutants more than I had seen on the news once and on the internet twice.

And what does my mom do? She rushes to his side, holds him, gets a cushion underneath his head.

"Mom, let's go!" I shout. "He'll kill yah one of these days."

She's weeping now, wiping the blood from his nose, with the hem of her shirt.

"Yah go, honey." This is the saddest face I've seen in my life. The last time I saw her, too. "Ah'll be fine."

That night set a before and after in me. I left the piece of junk I'd called home my whole life, and on top of that, I met you. And I'm back at it, like this night was a place I could visit.

Where are you?

Here.

I storm out for good. My head's spinning but I'm glad you're with me, even though I don't know more than two or three things about you. Which doesn't quite keep me from going to where you live.

It's not far away, in the swamps area. We sneak in, 'cause we shouldn't wake anyone up. I don't even know what I'm doing but why not go ahead, if I'm with you?

You take a mat and a blanket, go to sleep in the attic and leave me there in your bedroom. The times I've smiled all alone, when remembering that, are countless. How did I end up here?, and now I'm here again, and I like it. I like how your bed is one of those old style ones, and when I let myself fall on it, the mattress budges like it's alive.

Then, I listen to the silence. And the crickets and frogs maybe, out there. I don't cry anymore because I've had too much of that. I feel safe, in this bed that's not mine and nothing but the unknown ahead and around.

I indulge myself in this… memory, dream? I could very well stay and live in it.

But not there. I mean, not here. What's this? I can't move.

The sun's up and you bring me a bag full of food, but I've got to stay in the bedroom and quiet, because your father, brothers, uncles, aunts, cousins and three billion people that live in this house, can be a pain. That's what you say. And you promise you'll come back in the evening and we'll go out. No idea where to, but then that's just another thing I don't know right now and it doesn't bother me.

There are several types of music coming from different directions and they all add up to the noise in the boulevard. We take a seat as I eat my caramel popcorn and you, chicken wings.

"So, you're not scared I'm a mutant?"

"No, why would I?"

"Most people are."

"Well Ah'm not most people."

"I know" you tell me and I know you mean it.

"Besides, if yah wanted to hurt me, yah'd have done it by now, like…"

"Killing y' in your sleep, cannibalizing y'? All that _horrible_ stuff they say mutants do and worse?"

"Yeah, like that."

"Nah, wasn't in the mood for that last night."

You have hot sauce in your chin, just a little bit, and I wipe it off with my finger.

"And tonight?"  
"Tonight, _chere_ , just want y' to have a good time. To leave the past in the past and just enjoy now, this moment. Tomorrow, we'll figure out what to do 'bout everything else."

You say _we, we'll figure out_. Like we are a "we", already. I have plans: moving to another city, getting a retail job or being a waitress, then, who knows. But now, we're walking down the boulevard with all of this happy people. And I wish I hadn't left my mom behind but… could I have done something more for her? I had to leave, now I'm gone and she's in the past too. Just like you, Remy; you've always been in the past, the times you've been in the present have been way too brief for me to even grasp them. And the future… I always had the feeling you'd eventually show up. You did, you stirred the past up several times. But now… I prefer not to think. I better just let myself walk with you, see the street artists, talk, let you make me laugh, 'cause God, I need that.

Now we're back in your roofless 60's car and you turn the radio on. I was like dreaming then and I'm dreaming now. I throw my head back, see the tree branches and lamp posts fly by as we go. I feel your eyes on me, from time to time, when the road allows you to.

"I really like y', Rogue."

I turn to you now and I still smile on the inside at this. I mean, we'd known each other for roughly 24 hours and then you blurt that out because, why not?

"Wow."

"What?"

"It's just kind of sudden."

"Not a problem, it's the truth."

I think we signed our sentence right there and then, in the pupils of the other.

We tip toe our way to your bedroom again; besides the crickets outside, the pounding of my heart is probably the only thing that could be heard. And how your eyes stand out in the dark, like the devil's. You cup my face with your hands and I know I'm lost. I wish I could kiss your lips once more, that you could kiss mine, like we did that night. Well, I've been wishing that for years. You hold me with those arms of yours and I can't help to whimper, because I'm bursting inside.

Bursting. Yeah, very accurate.

You start to gasp like your choking, I don't know what to do besides calling your name and asking if you're okay, which is obviously useless. You look at me with wide eyes and that's it, you fall to the floor.

I could have thought it was… I don't know, anything else, something you ate, something wrong with your heart. But I knew it had been me. And I got it confirmed when these images, flashes of your life, started to pop up inside my head.

Even though you were breathing, I thought I had killed you, that you'd die from whatever it was I'd done to you. So, cowardly, I pick up my backpack, dial 911 from your phone and run away.

The thought that maybe I should have stayed, has always bugged me. I should have woken people up, go to the hospital with you, make sure you were fine. But I was scared and the insides of my head were all scrambled. It's not enough of an excuse but… it's the way things happened.

And I can't change them now, let alone from this pit I'm all sunk in. The pain is so general, I couldn't even put my finger on where it hurts the most. There's someone around, I hear her talking. She says something about milligrams and doctor something.

Who's she?

Why am I here, Remy? How did I get here?

 **Note: As you can see, this is from Rogue's point of view, but I decided not to use the accents in her thoughts, but in the lines she speaks. And I got inspiration for this fic from a book and from some movies, but I'll tell you which ones later, I try not to give spoilers away. And nooooooo, please don't leave without dropping me a review. Please? Thanks for reading!**


	2. Chapter 2: Inside out

Disclaimer: I don't own the X-Men!

Note: The title of this chapter comes from a song by a band named Spoon (not from the cartoon movie, lol). I love it, I think it's a song that makes your thoughts kind of wander.

Chapter 2: Inside out.

I should have gone with you.

This single little phrase has eaten my brain away for so long. The irreparable is just too heavy. Too consuming.

Can I fix it?

I can't. Nothing can be fixed and I'm stuck here now, somewhere.

Where are you?

I hadn't been here in a while, in the mansion's large hall that always gave me this museum vibe. Voices come from the doorway and I'm drawn in that direction. There's Logan and Storm, the Professor and Scott.

"Hey Rogue, come meet someone" Cyclops says: "He'll be staying in the Institute for a while."

It's too bright outside so first I only see a man's tall frame, as my eyes adjust to the sunlight. But then you take a step forward and it's you.

See? It's strange: the odds were juggling the hell out of things, to bring us closer, but we were the ones stupidly tearing ourselves away.

I don't say anything, only stare at you with that last memory of our kiss and your subsequent passing out, hammering in between my eyeballs.

"Hello _chere_ " you say with a nod and a half smirk, which tells me you didn't expect to see me either.

"Had you guys met before?"

"Yeah-"

"No." I can feel every pair of eyes on me, but I'm only looking at yours: "Ah mean, yeah. Once."

Are the others expecting to hear the story of it or what? Either way, we just stay there measuring each other, for some other never-ending five or six seconds.

"Very well, then" Thanks, Professor: "Scott, please take Mr. LeBeau to his room".

For a while, I thought I had killed you cold. But then, when I became an X-Man and learnt about my powers, I knew you were most likely alive. When was that? How do four years go by and then you show up out of nowhere and I'm sent head first to those few hours we spent together? I didn't tell you back then, when you said it to me, but of course I liked you too, wasn't it obvious?

And there are things that slowly fade away from the mind, that lose a little bit of their clarity with each passing day, leaving nothing but a shadow in a corner of the memory. Well, you weren't one of those things. Never have. Time didn't cure me then, and you can bet it hasn't cured me so far.

That's not what time does to the one you love.

Maybe it sounds a little silly, 'cause I'd only known you for such a short while. But then again, time is the least important of variables when you are sure of something.

And time can be a bitch, too.

Are you upset about what happened?

I don't think so, judging by your expression when I turn around to face you, after more than hearing, sensing a whisper close to my ear:

"I always knew it, _chere"_.

This is the mansion's backyard, decorated with balloons and lights of colors, because this morning it was the kids' high school graduation and they're throwing a party for the whole school. I was just wandering around and now… it's a little strange having you by my side, after so long of picturing over and over again the image I had of you up in my head. Your face, your hair, your arms and body, your voice, everything becomes precise again, all at once.

"Knew what?"

"That we'd meet again. Didn't y'?"

"Ah don't know, Ah didn't think 'bout it."

I don't buy my own words and you don't either.

"Sure y' didn't". You study my face for a moment, then continue: " _Au contraire_ , I did wonder if y' were 'kay and how y'd been doing, and I'm glad y' found a place. I'm glad y're here."

"Um… okay, and yah're not mad at me?"

"What for? Knocking me out and disappearing? _Non_."

"Yeah, about that… Ah'm sorry, Ah didn't mean to…"  
"Hey, I know, don't worry. Why don't we just forget 'bout that and pick it up where we left it?"

"And where'd that be?"

"For starters, right here and now's just perfect."

It sure is. It's perfect in the way the little space in between us is filled with a sort of electrical current, and how you look with that jacket and tie. We sit with the others for a while and it's perfect because everyone's having a good time, everything seems relaxed and in its right place, you make jokes and everyone laughs and we're drinking whatever thing. It's perfect when we walk around, sneak to a balcony and see everything from above.

"So how did y' get here? How did y' become one of the infamous X-Men?" you ask me.

"Well it was very easy, surprisingly. They just contacted me 'bout a week after yah and Ah, yah know, met-"

"Kissed."

"Yeah, and here Ah am. Not much of a traumatic or crazy story, huh? By the way, Ah gotta ask something."

"Shoot."

"How long were yah… out? How long did it take for yah to get better?"

"Let's see, was in a coma for a couple days…"

"Oh my Gawd, yah can't be serious..."

" _Oui_ , and…"

"Ah'm sorry!" I start snickering, not sure why.

"Well y' don't seem to be too sorry _cherie_! But can't complain, was out of the hospital a lil' after that."

"That's horrible."

"Oh yeah? I think it ain't bad: a nap for a kiss. I'd repeat it anytime."

I stop laughing. This is serious shit.

"No, yah wouldn't."

You come dangerously close and I hate you and love you for it.

"We'll see."

"We won't."

You grin and then, the fireworks begin out there, on the other side of the lake.

Now that I look back at it and that it all seems so far away, I can tell the following days were, like you anticipated, perfect. I wish I could stretch them on and on, turn them into an infinite loop or at least erase their ending, so I could pretend they're in stand-by forever. I just don't want them to end, not the way they did.

You think I can do that, if I stay here?

"It's true, ha?" I say, as we walk down the street and I don't dare to look back, given you just casually snatched an apple from a vendor's pile; without paying for it, I may add.

"What's true?" you take a bite.

"That yah're a thief."

You keep chewing and offer me some. The damage is done already so I take a bite as well.

"Who told y' that?"

"The girls."

"Ah _oui_? What else they said?"

It's a warm day but, of course, I have to wear my long sleeves and gloves. Quite ridiculous.

"They said yah're oh so dreamy! And oh, so cute! And oh so hot, and oh so bleh."

"And what y' think 'bout that?"  
You take another large bite from the apple and look at me, waiting for an answer. Well Rems, of course I agree with them, but I'm not gonna tell you that. I'm not going to inflate your ego even more than it already is.

"Yah didn't answer my question. Are yah a thief?"

"I answer yours, y' answer mine."

"Fine."

"I'm a master thief _, cherie,_ to be more precise" you toss what's left of the apple into a trashcan. "So?"

We keep walking for some moments until I decide it:

"Yah're not ugly."

What? It's true.

I jump to that other night, after a long day of missions and fighting the bad guys. I think we're the only people awake in the house at this hour, because everything around (the air, the sounds) is still.

I always liked this couch. It's one of those you want to sink into and pretty much live in.

"…so Tante Mattie took her shoes off and threw them at me as I ran away, hit me once, yelling _y'll be goin' to hell, sale gamin du diable_!"

You're telling me about your childhood there, in the South, about your family I never had the chance to meet.

After a short while of staring at each other, I speak:

"Yah think so? That we go to hell or heaven?"

"Not at all" you say right away: "I believe in being alive, in making the most of what we have 'cause after that there's probably just an empty bin. Nothing. I think we're alone in this world and we gotta fend for ourselves with our wits and our humanity, that's the only thing we got for sure. Everything else's uncertain".

"Ah don't think our humanity's very certain or very… reliable. Ah mean, aren't our flaws what define us, what make us human? More than a source of wits, Ah think we're little mistake making machines, swarming the Earth and thinking we're so smart just because we created sliced bread. But we're mainly just a mess."

" _Mais non, chere_ : coming here? Not a mistake."

I feel all light and tingly, submerging myself in these moments with you. I think I smile, when the next one shows up.

The sky is orange and pink as it heads to the sunset, right above my face. This trampoline has been here, in the backyard, for a while. A book is resting on my stomach and then, the elastic surface shifts and I see you climbing up.

"There y' are, _chere_ , hadn't seen y' today" you lie by my side and rest the back of your head on your palms.

"Ah was trying to get away from _people,_ but It's kinda difficult."

"Roguey, y' can run all y' want, but y' can't hide from Remy."

"Ah'm glad."

You turn to see me and I smile because I simply cannot help it. You have a scratch on your eyebrow, consequence of the previous days' craziness.

"Gimme your hand."  
I should ask what for?, or say no. But I don't. I show you my right gloved hand and you take it between yours. I pull back, though, when you start removing the glove.

"Are yah nuts?!"  
"Y' said y've been working on it."

"Yeah but it's not… ready yet."

"How y' know?"  
"Well…" The Professor's been helping me a lot with those mental sessions and stuff. But… "Okay, Ah don't have many guinea pigs, yah know? It's not something people would usually volunteer for."

"Then what am I doing right now?"

The twilight tints everything in slight violet now.

"Ah don't wanna hurt yah."

"Y' won't. I trust y'. Y' just gotta trust yourself."

You take my hand again and I'm slowly dying inside as you remove the glove. I'm scared.

Then, you approach your hand to mine and I shut my eyes tight. "Trust" you say again and I look, focusing my mind in the things I've tried to learn: my skin doesn't control me, I control it. It's my instrument. I can use it at will and my thoughts decide what will happen and what won't and right now, it…

Your gloves cover two of your fingers, which you place against mine. I expect the worst when the others make contact.

No, don't be stupid, don't expect the worst. You can do it.

Nothing happens for a while and I stare at our hands like they were out of this world.

"O…kay" I say, but suddenly, it kicks in and I pull my hand back, as when touching something burning hot. "Sorry!"

"Whoo! I'd missed that. It's okay, let's try again."  
I don't have tiny hands, I'd say their quite average, but I like the way they look small compared to yours. And our fingertips, our knuckles, everything is blending in and it's alright.

I laugh half nervously, because it's hard to believe this is happening. Your face's so close to mine now, I can feel the air you exhale; it's warm and you kiss me, Remy, like that night so long ago, except this time I don't drain your life away. My lower lip is between yours and I open my eyes to see a white ceiling that's out of focus. No, I open… an eye?, the left one, 'cause the right one is stuck or something. There are the white lights and a blue curtain and everything is out of reach. I can't look down at myself but I know there's something in my throat or nose or around there. Is that the lady I heard the other… day, time? Another lady, they're dressed in white, they're nurses and why am I here, Remy? There must be a mistake, I… I hear some other voices and I think it's him but I don't wanna see him, I wanna see you, so it all vanishes and thank God, I'm back at… this is my nightstand at the mansion, those are my books and hair brush. And these are your arms around me. This is better than the other… place, for sure.

I turn around to face you, not worrying about remaining or not covered up by the sheets. It's good to feel this way: I'm not poison anymore.

"Ah've never caught yah sleeping" I say, my lips almost brushing yours: "Yah're always awake."

"Guess I'm used to watch my back."

"Oh yah gotta watch your back from me?"

"Course not. Just a habit." After a long kiss, you continue: "But y' talk in your sleep."

"Really?" You nod. "What have Ah said?"  
"Once y' were arguing with Kitty, I think. Something about laundry."

"Not a surprise."

"And just now y' said…"

It's rare to see you hesitate.  
"What?"

"Y' said: _don't leave, Remy_."

I let my fingers play with your hair for a while, I see its brown color in the scarce light. If I look at you in the eye right now, you'll see how sad and terrified I am. But why not, anyway? I've got nothing to hide from you anymore.

"Did Ah?"

That was the last time you slept in my bed, as little sense as it makes.

Hell was rising outside, getting worse with each passing day and it seemed it was just about to explode. Bad mutants attacking people, the government trying to defend them, and now goddamn Apocalypse. And there was your stupid guild with those stupid Cajuns of yours, everyone against each other. You and I? Puppets in the middle of it all. Stupid puppets, really. Now, I think we could have done better than we did. We could have decided better.

You knock on my door as I'm putting my uniform on. I open up and with no introduction, you say:

"Come with me."

People are running around the hallways of the mansion, getting ready to go out.

"What?" I take you by an arm and pull you inside the room.

"Come with me, now. Home."

"Remy, there're people dying out there! We gotta…."

"They killed _mon pere_ too, _chere_ , now I'm in charge and if I don't go now, it gonna be a whole big mess. Y' gotta come with me".

Logan and Scott are shouting orders out there but they're miles away.

"Ah can't leave them now Rem, they need me! We need all the help we can get, why don't yah stay for a while at least, we'll go later."

"Can't wait for later, Rogue. Y're coming or not?"  
I couldn't breathe. How many times have I dissected this moment in my head? How many times have I seen myself then, like I can't recognize me, like this was someone else I have nothing to do with? Not me. I can't be so stupid, can I? But maybe I'm being too harsh on myself. Come on, it's a freaking war we're talking about, and I had the chance to help and to do what I'm supposed to do: to be an X-Man and save people from actual death. In expense of what? Of you and me, now I see it. And I feel no shame in saying that, if I could change it now, I'd have gone with you to the end of the world and back, Remy, and fuck everything else. Too bad we only realize of these things when regret is crushing us inside and it's too late.

"Ah can't." You're about to walk away but I don't let you: "Yah'll come back, right?"  
" _Oui._ "

You cup my face between your hands and this is good bye.

Do you think our pride had something to do? That it was some sort of absurd competition to see who'd give in?

We'll never know. But kiss me again, let's taste my tears before I either wake up again to that immobile nightmare, or go to sleep even deeper.

Note: The part when they're talking in the couch, that Remy says something like "we're alone in the world", I based it on the 90's animated series, in the episode named "NIghtcrawler", when Rogue and Remy are in Paris in the end, sitting in a cafe and talking. Have I told you guys that reviews make my day? I think I have but anyway, once more won't hurt.


	3. Chapter 3: Inside

Disclaimer: I don't own the X-Men!

 **Note: The title of this chapter comes from a song by the band The Bang Gang.**

Chapter 3: Inside.

You can do it, Rogue. It's been too long, none of that exists anymore.

My hands are almost shaking as I walk down the mansion's corridors, but I force them to remain still. Why does it look so empty around here, or so overwhelming? My head is about to pop like corn in the microwave, though there's no reason to feel that way, right? It's all in the past, he moved on, you can move on and particularly, you can make it through tonight.

I take one very long breathe right before I start descending the staircase. It's oxygen that goes up to my brain and will hopefully wash away all of the ridiculous thoughts that are boiling inside.

People are in the hall already.

You can do it, gal. You can put on a mask and make your face obey you. I go down one step and another one, then some more. My heart's not about to burst. It's not.

Everyone's talking and shaking hands and you are in the middle there, Remy, so maybe in a self defense mechanism my mind goes blank: I don't think anymore, I just go along like a robot.

There's something I do feel: some sort of scorching and viscous poison that starts running through my veins and spreads all over.

Go along. Just go along.

I think I say hello and nice to meet you to those other three or four people; I must have, can't remember well. Then we're face to face, Remy, and I make the tremendous effort of smiling in what I hope looks like politeness and coolness.

"Hello, Rogue."

I hate you.

"Hi, how are yah?" I say, in a voice that doesn't belong to me.

"Fine, y'?" I want to spit on this semi-hug, the most awful hug ever: "My wife, Bella."

I hate her. I hate everyone right now, you, above all, and myself included.

Boy, do I deserve an Oscar for greeting this idiot. And good Lord, she's perfect. Does she know about us? What _us_ , anyway? That doesn't exist, it's all erased from the history of mankind.

I don't know how I make it to the dining room, where we crowd the large table: the Professor, Dr. Hank, Logan, Storm, Jean, Scott, Kitty, those random Cajuns, you and her. _Her_. I feel like a little wind-up toy, 'cause my own hands and arms look unfamiliar to me, as I eat food that tastes like plastic. At least you're not across the table from me; that'd have been too much to handle.

Before, people knew about us, of course (what _us_? What _us_?) So I feel like I'm on display, like they take quick glimpses at you and me to see how it's going, but maybe I'm just imagining it.

I gotta get out of here. Of this dining room and of this place I'm stuck in. I think I might have a fever, I heard them say something about it, which would explain why I feel like I'm being roasted. Or maybe it's this chicken stew platter.

Why are we making a complete fool of ourselves, Remy, acting like strangers when we're everything but?

The small talk is getting too unbearable, in spite of which I make it to the end of the whole thing, when the Professor excuses himself and leaves. I do the same, with the fakest smile I can build up, and leave too, picking up at handfuls as much dignity as I can.

I close the door to my bedroom and sit at the border of the bed, looking back at it like it was a bad movie I just saw.

And I cry my guts out.

"Rogue?" I hear Kitty at the door after a while. "Rogue, I'm coming in."

She phases in, so I wipe my face with both palms and stand up, shaking my head:

"Ah'm fine, Ah'm okay, Ah'm just…"

I can't keep talking, all I'm able to do is keep on crying.

"Oh my God Rogue, I'm sorry" Kit says with a sad face and hugs me. "I mean, it's been a long time, I thought… And why does he even bring her here?"

The expression "cry on someone's shoulder" is real. I leave the sleeve of her shirt soaked with tears.

I don't think I slept that night, did I? I spent it more in a state of being half awake and half asleep, kind of like I am now. Knowing that you were in the mansion, just several rooms away from me, sharing a bed with someone else, gave me a mental nausea that stretched on as hours did. When it finally started to get clear out there, I was worn out.

Kitty comes at some point during the day and asks me if I'll go to the meeting or whatever, that evening. But I can't. I thought I could be strong enough, that maybe seeing you again would show me the feelings I had built up for you all this time where mostly an idealization, or hanging on to things that don't exist anymore. Well, they do exist, you know? They're here on my skin, showing in my face, too many to hide them.

I don't know what time it is but it's dark already, when you knock on my door.

I knew you would.

"Who's this?"

You're voice saying "It's me" on the other side, makes my stomach drop about ten stories down.

"What do yah want?"

"To talk."

"What for?"

"Don't know."

Of course you don't know. But in that barefaced honesty I recognize a little of the person I used to know. So my hand acts without my permission, and opens up.

You come in and close the door behind your back. No good if someone sees you in my doorway, ha? And this time, I can really see you. Your hair's considerably shorter and that "I'm about to tease or flirt with you" look is nowhere to be found. Other than that, it's you.

"Well yah did come back" I distill an attempt at a bitter smile.

Your eyes are glued to mine.

"How are y'?"

"Ah'm great. Yah?"

You don't answer right away. I don't want to feel naked, I don't want you to see through me.

"I've missed y'."

You knocked it out of the park with this one, Rem. So weird: I want to both toss a lamp at your head, and to die hugging and kissing you right now, which doesn't make much more sense than what you just said.

"What're yah saying?"

"I got no idea what I'm sayin' Rogue, and y' know that don't happen to me. I just can't be in this house and pretend nothing's happenin'." I don't even blink. You take a look around: "Y' changed the walls."

They used to be dark purple and now they're plain white. It's white around here too, white and blue. I think I move a hand but I'm not sure. I wish I could speak with someone, where am I?

"Yeah, a lot's changed around here, Remy. And yah should leave." I don't give a damn anymore: "Your wifey must be wondering where yah are."

"Things got messy there, Rogue, back home-"

"Ah'm not asking for an explanation."

"I know. I got swallowed up by it, they all relied on me since I became the head of the guild, it was pretty much a war, like everywhere else and time started passin' by and… she was there." You're lucky I didn't kill you right then and there: "She from the assassins and she's a good woman-"

"Why are yah telling me this?"  
"-but I don't love her like I love y'." Then what the fuck…? "I love y, Rogue. We never said it and I just wanted to let it out of my system."

"Yah chose the worst possible moment for it."

" _Oui_ … but y' said something 'bout it once, remember? That this is what we do: makin' mistakes."

"That's a poor excuse."

"There ain't no excuse."

"Go away. And don't come back."

You do. You nod and give me one last look, as if you wanted to remember me well. Then you walk out the door and I have to gasp for air, because I'm choking. Do you have any idea how many times I imagined you back in my room during these four goddamn years? It's ridiculous, it should be time enough to get over anything and anybody. And certainly, this wasn't what I had on mind.

I did sleep that night. A blank, empty sleep I abandoned myself to.

The blinds on my window are green. I spread two of the sheets to create a thin line I can look though. You're driving one of the two cars that are about to leave. In my head, I take a mental picture of this moment and know that it's most likely the last time I'll ever see you, with your trench coat on and your stupid wife in the passenger's side, back to the life you live and that continues without me. Because I don't exist there, do I? I'm just a page you turn over and it's gone.

It appears to me that you look towards my window before taking the curve that leads to the main gates. Just for a second, I think you do.

With the weight of a ton pulling me down from the inside, I try to move on with own life. I go to the Danger Room, work out, move around the house, go to the grocery store, to downtown or I play my superhero part, and you haunt me everywhere, like you always have. In the places we went to and the things we did, and strangely, even more in the things we didn't have the chance to do. Sometimes I'm doing whatever thing and I picture this stupid scene in my head, in which you are there with me. I try to imagine what you'd say, the look on your face, your hair some days longer and other times shorter. Or I cry my eyes out when there's no one around, because the impossibility of it all is suffocating me. Couple minutes later I'm back to "nomal", though, 'cause I can't let a tear go out without my face getting all red and puffy, and I don't want people to know, not even Kitty.

I see you everywhere, in the movies I watch and the songs I torture myself with, like they were written specifically to mess me up even more.

But you know what the worst part is? In spite of everything and against my own will, I can't help to have hope. What an idiot. You're married, you're gone, I haven't seen you or talked to you in months now, and still, from time to time, I think the slight chance that you come back to your senses and come to me, is real. Because there'd be no reason for you to say that you love me, if it weren't true. Then maybe… maybe one day you'll gather the courage, Remy, to get rid of her and be with me. God knows I'd take you back in a second, as lame as it sounds. In the meantime, don't forget me: think of me, miss me, compare her with me and witness how she loses. Just… don't let me fade away. And suffer a lot. Yes: I hope you're going through at least half of the hell I'm going through; it'd only be fair.

Is there a way to get over someone? A series of steps I could follow, a trick, anything? Obviously time and distance are of no use, so maybe going out with other people could help.

Not that this guy is bad; it's just that he's not you.

 **Note: As you guys can see, our dear and tortured (*tear*) Rogue and Remy have met every four years or so, each time, and I got the idea for that from the "Before" trilogy: Before sunrise, Before sunset and Before midnight; have you seen those movies? They are beyond amazing, I love them so much. So I wanted to kind of base this fic in that idea of being apart for a while and then meeting the person again; something like that. Another thing: it's not my intention to make Rems look like the villain or something; it's just that… shit happens, in life. Anyway, please remember to tell me your thoughts on this in the little, lovely review box! Thanks for reading!**


	4. Chapter 4: Back to Manhattan

Disclaimer: I don't own the X-Men.

Note: The title of this chapter comes from a song by Norah Jones that, God, every time I listen to it, my heart breaks in a million tiny pieces.

Chapter 3: Back to Manhattan.

I like this place, this little outdoors café in Brooklyn. It's so familiar I think I even recognize the napkin holders and that picture of a horse on the wall. I'm just having a cup of coffee and reading a bit before going home, here in this bubble that turns me into another anonym face.

In a way, I always knew this moment would come. This date, hour and place were encircled in a calendar somewhere, without us knowing where or when. Did you know it, Remy? I did. It was like an underground pulse that was waiting for us along the way.

I pictured it many times in my head, in different ways and with different sceneries; this one fits well.

You come over and stand there, staring at me and I'm about to throw whatever _get lost_ phrase, but then I look up and…

I had practiced this too. Glaring at you, ignoring you or " _hi, good to see you, bye bye_ ", all seemed plausible options, but when the moment comes, my plans and practice go straight to the gutter.

I'm mad at you, I still am. God, I hate you! I'm so over you. You mean nothing.

But I smile a little.

It's your fault, Remy, and I hate you even more.

Maybe it's not really a smile as such, it's just… it's indeed good to see you, I guess.

"Rogue" you say.

"Remy?" I reply, at the lack of something better. I don't think I had pronounced your name out loud in years.

What are you doing here? What am I doing here?

"How are y'? Great, I can see, as always of course, but anyway I'll ask again: how are y'?"

I think I hold the world record of being the only person that's ever made the sweet talker Remy LeBeau wonder what the hell he just said. HA! I'm kind of proud.

I do smile this time: "Fine, yah?"

"Good, saw those white streaks from the distance an' thought I recognized 'em". Why do we keep allowing odds and coincidences do all the job? "Can I sit, for a moment?"

You're well aware there's a high chance I say _no_. But the word comes out on its own:

"Um, okay."

I close the book and take the last sip of my still warm coffee, while our eyes say a million things we can't pronounce. So we settle for the civil talk of two acquaintances that meet after a while.

"How's everythin'? Still in the superhero business?"

"Yes and no. Ah don't live with them anymore, Ah just help them sometimes. Yah?"

"Moved here few months ago."

"Oh. Why?"

"'Cause it's a better place for… my son, well not better but at least away from all of the guilds madness."

I had foreseen this possibility too. It only makes sense.

"So yah're a dad."

"It looks like it, yeah."

"How's that?"

"Well, y' don't really get used to it, at least I haven't. Every day I wake up an' think, shit, there's a person that depends on me. It's a lil' scary."

"Must be. But yah'll do well." I don't know why I say this. It just came out.

"Y' think?"

"Yeah."

"Alright, I'll go with that. After all, y' know me well."

"Or used to."

The calmed way in which I let this out surprises me, but come on, I have the right to throw at least a knife or two at you, even a tiny one.

" _Non_ , y' do know me. Haven't changed that much, just same ol' Remy. What 'bout y'?"

I could use another sip of coffee right now, but the cup is empty.

"Ah don't know. Sometimes changes are so gradual yah don't even notice them right then. Yah just take a look at yourself one day and, wow, who's that?"

One thing hasn't change: I can still read your eyes.

"That your case?"

"Yeah." I hold your stare, wearing my thin mask of pride, but then, I don't know why, something inside of me softens. Maybe it's my propensity to the bare faced truth, 'cause I'm not the best liar. So I look away and chuckle: "Nah, Ah don't know. Ah don't think so." And here are the two of us, saying a bunch of contradictory crap and nonsense. It's almost 6 pm. "Ah gotta go."

I get up and you do the same. Better not to delay the unavoidable or to keep this window in between dimensions open. Let's just close it already.

"Hope y' keep doin' well."

"Yah too". Talking about knives, one is stabbing me in the pit of the stomach right now: "Bye" I sentence and immediately, I turn around and walk away, 'cause I can't stand another second of whatever this is.

"Rogue!"

I hadn't yet taken three steps when I hear you behind my back and feel stupidly relieved.

"Yeah?"

"Y' think maybe we could grab some coffee one of these days? If y' can, is it possible?"

I don't think there's a power in this world that could make me refuse. You're right: I haven't changed much either. I'm still that runaway girl you met one long gone night.

"I know I shouldn't ask y' this an' I'm not trying a move or anything, I just don't wanna cut this chat cold, y' know I always liked talkin' to y' an'…"

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Yeah. Um… next Thursday, here, at 4?"

"Couldn't be better. See y' then."

I don't say anything else. I walk away, hiding a smile.

I spend the train ride back home reviving each portion of your face and every word you said. Twelve, ten stations left and I finally spot a free seat besides the window. Eight stations left, to hate you a little and to hope you're dying at the thought of what you're missing out (that is, me) because of your idiocy, Remy; you're a total idiot that I'm thinking of as the dark tunnels of the subway pass by, six stations left, four, and I know I'm lying here…

"Hey, sweetie! Good to see you awake!" It's blurry but I distinguish the shape of someone, one of those women, these nurses. "Hey, she opened her eyes, we should…"  
This is where I get off so I try to push everything back. It's hard, though, 'cause I feel that it shows everywhere in me.

There's no one in the living room, so I get to the bedroom and let my purse and a couple of bags fall on the armchair. The shower's running.

"Possum?"  
I hate it when he calls me that, but I won't protest this time.

"Hi hun!"

"How was your day?"

Quite uneventful: I ran into my ex and made plans to see him next week. I also bought muffins.

"Good, I went to that little market. Real nice."

I'm gonna change my clothes. They say _Gambit_ all over.

"Great, listen, the guys are coming tonight, with Sarah and Lynn too, is that okay?"

"Sure."

They aren't bad people, all of them. The three guys are watching a football game I try to pay attention to, but these women have zero interest in sports, so I gotta talk to them as well; after all, I'm one of the hosts. Sarah will change her hair color, Lynn is redecorating her condo and I don't give a shit. What world does this picture belong to? and even more, how did I get myself in it? Are we a bad cliché, sitting here in the middle of Manhattan, preparing margaritas and talking about meaningless stuff?

No, it's not that bad, right? I just have a missing piece in my soul, that's all.

Cody is snoring by my side. And though my body is here, under the same covers as him, my mind is at the mansion, with you under the fireworks or in my bedroom, that time we went to Coney Island or going somewhere in your bike. I'm with you, feeling the touch of your skin and your lips. I'm here in this bed with this guy, but inside, I'm wherever you are, Remy, 'cause you are a fever I've carried around for so long, that gets better sometimes but it's always there, creeping on me.

A million opposing thoughts buzz inside my head the following days. This is not a wrong thing to do, right? It's just coffee and a conversation, like old friends do. Well that "old friends" stuff sounds like a big pile of bullshit, but whatever.

So weird that you have a kid; I know it's… normal but… I'm still trying to get used to the idea. And we're both married. Not to each other, unfortunately. I laugh miserably at this on a random morning, as Thursday gets closer.

It's just coffee and talking. That's it.

And there you are, in the same spot. You stand up but I make sure to keep the table between us.

"Hello Roguey, how's everythin'?"

"Hi, fine, sorry Ah'm a little late."

We sit down and while one hemisphere of my brain is shouting that I'm a criminal, the other one tells me I'm right where I'm supposed to be. Where I should have always been.

"S'okay, I was wonderin' if y'd come."

"Well Ah always keep my promises, yah know? Unlike _other people_."

Damn it, Rogue. This is not now it should go! You don't want to look like you still care about that, remember?

"Y're right, _other people_ are complete assholes that…"

"No, Ah'm sorry…"

"…mess up the best thing they'll ever have."

"Sorry 'bout that, Ah don't think we should start up this way."

" _Non_ , but _some people_ deserve it, really".

"Well yeah, but it doesn't matter anymore, does it?"

"Hello, may I take your order?"

We could have continued going on about this for hours, like we always do when we immerse ourselves in a topic.

"Hi, yeah, Ah'll have…" I feel your gaze on me, even without having to look at you. I know you want to hold on to each moment, like I do: "…a large latte and apple pie."

"Very well, what about you, sir?"

"Same but black coffee."

We're alone again and I'm the one to talk:

"So… should we start over?"

"Please, _oui_ , let me try somethin' this time: _how's your life?_ Classic, I know, but mandatory."

"Well, as Ah told yah, Ah don't live in the mansion anymore 'cause Ah got married."

I thought telling you this would be more satisfying. It's not.

"Yeah" you nod: "Saw the ring the other day, it's a big one."

"…Ah also teach self-defense to women, three times a week…"

"That suits y'."

"…and besides that and going on a mission or two with the X-Men every now and then, Ah pretty much have a lot of free time to do things I wanna do, like reading or just walking around the city." Don't look at me like that, Remy, please don't. "Does that answer your question?"

"Partly."

"Too bad, um, what about yah? What are yah up to?"

"Leadin' the guild but from here. It's way better, I get to shake off most of the responsibilities an'… we really gonna talk about work?"

"What do yah wanna talk about?"

"Not work, that for sure".

The waiter brings our food and thank God, 'cause that allows me to take a momentary pause from your stare.

You go on: "What about… him? How long y've been married?"

When we first met, 12 years ago, do you think this conversation about third parties was meant to happen? Or we just messed up along the way?

"Two years, we met in one of those trials, after the war, Magneto's trial. He's a lawyer."

" _Lawyer?_ Sounds like fun."

"Well it's better than _assassin_."

I remember that smirk so well, and what you said next: "Can't argue with that."

They were eleven weeks overall (did you count them? I did), when I'd spend every second waiting for Thursday to arrive. My palms always got sweaty when the day finally came and I said goodbye to Cody in the morning, because, who am I kidding? It wasn't entirely right. Damn, it wasn't right at all.

But I couldn't stop, could I?

It's all scrambled in my head: I see you and I drinking coffee, then wandering around the streets with these big graffiti paintings on the walls. Walking by your side feels so natural, even if we don't hold hands like we used to. We're parallel lines, you know? Seeing each other from a certain distance but unable to touch. The irony is pitiable: maybe it'd have been better if I had never been able to actually touch you. Do you think it'd have been better if none of this had happened?

I look down and we're walking on the wooden planks of the bridge, only to get to the other side and come back again. We avoid talking about _them._ We talk about the past, but mainly about the present and about a nonexistent future. We go to this little store and try hats on. We eat pizza. I do some shopping in the little market and you steal an apple and I'm 16 again, or 20, and I'm with you, a normal little carefree couple just walking around.

Except we're not.

"Don't yah think time's weird? That's going by too fast lately?"

We're in this park with the crazy high buildings on the other side of the river.

" _Oui,_ goes by especially fast on Thursdays from 4 to 6, wish I could slow it down a little".

"Yeah but Ah don't mean that."

" _Yeah?_ So y' agree?"

"Okay, yeah, but what Ah mean's… it's too strange to look back at your life and see so many years back there, makes yah wonder, what have Ah done with this time that Ah had? Feels like not much".

"Think I could measure my life by the times y've been in it."

"Yah really wanna go there, don't yah?"

" _Chere_ , come on, look at y', look at me, we're here an' I just called y' _chere,_ which I hadn't in ages an' it feel so right. An' we're here now, look around, and I don't wanna go anywhere else. That feeling _, chere_ , it's real stuff. If something like that's not more than perfect to measure your life, then I don't know what is".

"Yeah… it's real, right? This moment, away from… everything."

"And everyone".

I don't know where I get the willpower from, to move away when your lips were millimeters away from mine.

"NO! Remy?"

" _Merde_ , I'm sorry." You run your fingers through your hair and I look away, almost shaking. "God, I'm sorry Rogue, won't happen again. I'm so sorry… 'bout everythin'."

And yeah: it couldn't happen again. It wouldn't.

Next week it's the eleventh Thursday, around 6 pm, rush hour, when we're part of this crowd that goes down the metro stairs and tunnels while my chest's about to explode. There's people everywhere, we keep moving forward and suddenly you hold my hand. I attempt to pull back but you don't let me.

"Please, _chere,_ just for this moment".

So I interlock my fingers with yours as we walk. You're not wearing your gloves today so your palm's on mine, like it hadn't been since forever ago, warm and making my whole arm feel strange but also safe.

Nobody knows. All of these people around minding their own business and no one knows we're dying here.

We make it to the platform and I cross my arms over my chest. I can't look at you in the eye.

"I don't like this" you say at last: " _Chere_ , I'm sorry 'bout last time an' I'm sorry 'bout this big ass mess I made, but I can't stop seeing y' again, I can't let y' go like that."

"Then what, Remy? What? What're we gonna do? This will continue… escalating, you know? I could dodge the kiss that day but what about next time? And after that? Yah think it's fair with them?"

"I know it ain't fair with us, that's what I know-"

"Well what a shame, really, but this is how things are and Ah can't keep seeing yah, it's too painful, Ah mean, not seeing yah is painful too but…" I won't cry. Don't cry, Rogue. "It's a dead end."

You know I'm right, hun, it's just hard to accept it. One of us had to be the one to do it first.

You shrug in defeat: "But I love y'."

I'm about to sink in the ground when we hear the train approaching. Now I see that we're just a pair of cowards, but finally you hold me and I press my face against you, where it belongs. We're alone in this world, these people don't exist, we're not in the platform but in a place where there's no time and it's possible to start over and fix things that went wrong.

I think the train pulled over already but you speak to my ear:

"Wait for the next one."

I do. I'll wait for the next train and we just stay like this. I think someone says "get a room", but what do they know and who cares.

 _"Désolé, chere… je suis tres desolé… je t'aime…"_ you say over and over and I know you mean it. I can't help to cry.

"Ah love yah too…"

Another train is approaching. We have to let go, Remy. We really have to let go.

I pull away and… I don't feel guilty, I really don't. I always wanted this: the chance to kiss you again. Just once, we can call it a good bye kiss. I could rekindle this one forever: live in it, die in it…

But I leave. I break this kiss that's been attached to me ever since, and get on the train, right when the doors are closing.

We're breaking apart again Remy, curse you. From now on, it's like these ridiculous attempts at being close never even existed.

Maybe I died that day. It sure felt that way.

 **Note: This was sad to write :-( So, please remember to tell me what you guys think of this! Thanks for reading and see you soon with next chappie.**


	5. Chapter 5: Sometimes

Disclaimer: I don't own the X-Men!

 **Note: hi there! The title of this chap comes from a song by My Bloody Valentine.**

Chapter 5: Sometimes.

Few years passed by. I try to take a look at them and I see mainly blank stuff, sprinkled every now and then by one or two relevant things. I also see someone I'm not sure I know: someone who goes to the Caribbean with her good looking hubby once a year, who sits by his side as he watches war movies, who sometimes cries at night in mute, not to wake him up. Is that me?

But you and I, Reamy, we're never off the table, are we?

"Hello?"

"…"

"Hello?"

"Hello _chere_."

"…"

"I'm real glad to hear y'. Can y' talk now?"

"How did yah find…? What do yah want?"

"Just talking but face to face, y' think we could do that?"

"Talk 'bout what?"

"I know it's been a while, _cherie,_ but this important."

"…"

"Could we meet? Just tell me when and where."

"Ah don't… oh God... … …alright, maybe."

"'Kay, where could…?"

"Yah think that café still exists?"

"It does, _oui._ I go all the time."

"Really?"

"Yeah, reminds me of y'. Feels like y're gonna show up at any moment."  
"Yah know, maybe this isn't a good idea…"  
" _Non, non, non_! It's a good idea _chere_ , it's urgent, indeed."

"…What are yah up to?"

"Y'll see. It won't hurt, I promise."

"…Yah're still an ass."

" _Merci._ Comes out naturally."

"…"

"Okay, so what about this afternoon? Or tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow, at 4."

"Tomorrow's Thursday by the way."

"Ah noticed. And Ah hope Ah don't regret this."

"Y' won't. See y' tomorrow then."

"Bye."

"Bye _chere_."

Important. Urgent. Remy, you better not tell me what I think you will, 'cause I might punch you in the face.

I'm in a déjà vu with this street and these buildings around, but as I enter the café area, I feel home. The picture of the horse is still there, there are more tables than there used to be; I notice ours is taken, which makes me change my pace and direction awkwardly. I'll just sit somewhere else until you…

"And here we are again, _chere_ , didn't y' know we'd meet here one day?"

Hell yeah.

"Hey" I say in something like a whisper. We have a kiss on the cheek-hug kind of thing (I'd jump on you right now) and then we go sit down.

"Let's kick those people out of our table, _hein_?"

Your hair is long again, almost as long as… well, as it was long time ago. I like it better this way.

"Yeah, who do they think they are? That's our spot, by universal laws."

"We'll reduce them to weeping curled balls before they know what hit them."

I'm still a little wary, but above all, I'm just glad to be here with you.

Enjoy it, Rogue. I don't think it'll happen again.

We order black coffee and exchange _some how are you's_ and _how's your life's._

" _Chere,_ I just wanna cut it to the chase with this, 'kay?"

"Okay?" I take a sip. It needs more sugar.

"And I know this is a lil' out of the blue and that I got no right to even be sitting in front of y', which I thank y' for, coming here. I'm gonna take a leap of faith I guess, hope y' don't hate me for it."

My stomach drops a little.

"Alright, what is it?" I try to sound nonchalant.

You haven't tried your coffee when you lean forward:

"I moved out few weeks ago and we just sent the divorce papers, we should be signing in, dunno, a month or two". This hits me like a tornado but I remain stoic: "And again, I know we made mistakes, especially me, I know I shoulda never got married to begin with, but I can't go back to the past and change that, all I can do is try to maybe fix what's ahead and _cherie_ , if y' still love me like I love y', if y' think we deserve to have a chance to continue what we started, _mon Dieu_ , half of our lives ago: y' should do the same."

I don't move for a while, I'm just letting it sink in.

"What are yah telling me?"

"I'm telling y' it'd be really great if y' wanted to… divorce and come with me."

The air is hot inside my lungs.

"Just like that?"

" _Non_ , not just like that, I know it could take a little time but I'd be here, supporting y' and waiting for y' and-"

"So Ah have to adjust my life to yours?"

"No, that's not what I-"

"Ah mean, yah go and get married and get rid of me, then yah come along and casually tell me I gotta divorce 'cause it just occurred to yah and yah're in the mood for it, 'cause yah know, Ah'm just sitting around in life waiting for yah to decide what to do with me, Ah'm at your disposal, entirely. Is it like that?"

I had been wanting to say something like this and it felt great to blurt it out. You stare at me with a serious and a little bit sad face, poor baby:

" _Non_ , it ain't like. Nothing furthest from what I'm trying to say, I'm trying to say we can't keep living the way we do, _chere_ , I couldn't stand her anymore and even more, I couldn't stand being with someone else knowing that y' exist, that y're out there, somewhere with that… with him."

I'm stirring the coffee. It tastes better now.

"Remy yah can't show up after all this time and tell me all of this. I have a life and-"

"So did I, but guess what? It sucked 'cause y' weren't in it, and if I'm not mistaken or delusional y' feel the same. Right?"

"Ah…"

"Are y' happy?"

"Ah'm… not… unhappy!"

"Do y' love him?"

"He's my husband…!"

"Come on, _chere_ , say it" you bring your chair closer to me and I feel the pull of gravity again, something that I hadn't felt in so long, pulling us closer: "Say that y' don't love me".

It's the weirdest thing: I feel cornered, but I like it.

"Ah don't love yah" I say and my mouth tastes sour with that.

You look at me for some instants, so close:

"Y' just lied. Y've never been good at it." I turn back to my cup and you rest your arm on my chair's back. "I've been watching y'."

"What?"

"Since we said goodbye last time I've followed y' around sometimes, seen y' with him. Checked his background too, the bastard's clean which is shocking, for a _lawyer_."

I can't believe you. Well, actually, I can.

"This is super creepy."

"Yeah but y' love it, don't y'?"

I attempt to fight away the laughter in me, but I fail.

"This is nuts."

Finally you try your coffee.

"Aren't y' sick and tired of fooling everyone, Rogue? Including yourself?"

Are you kidding me?

"Yeah… but Remy, God, this is too difficult, are yah serious about all of this?"  
"Dead serious."

"But… his family, they're really nice and…"

"Hey _chere_ , we gonna talk about family, I've got a PhD on that hanging on my wall. Listen, they'll get used to it, people get used to everything. We're divorcing and the world kept spinning, I see my kid a couple times a week, we're still trying to arrange all of that but it's possible, everyone does it. And y' don't have kids, that's one less thing to worry about."

"He wants to have kids soon."

"What a bummer."

"But I really don't want to, yet."

"Okay, we can wait."

"Oh, wow" I laugh again: "So yah've got everything figured out? What our dog's name's gonna be and everything?"

"We can call it Scott, but _chere_ : don't we deserve this? Don't he deserve someone who really loves him?"

"That sounded like some cheap mind trick right there."

"Is it working?"

"Maybe. But… it's just too difficult…"

"I know and I don't wanna pressure y', so, may I? Thanks" You borrow a waiter's pen; well, snatch it from his hand: "I'll give y' my number and whenever y' wanna talk about this, whenever y're ready, just gimme a call, at any hour, okay? I'll be waiting."

We've waited long enough, haven't we?

Luckily, Cody's out of town for work so I have the house and the bed to myself, to lie around and get scared to death. How do you put an end to the life you're carrying, without notice? It's too terrifying because I think I had always wanted this to happen, but now that it did, I'm frozen. And yeah, it pisses me off that you suddenly come up with this, after so much shit we've been through, but pride won't take us anywhere, and certainly nowhere further than we've been. I'm done with that: with lying, with running away and especially, with dying of love for you while we're apart.

I get no sleep that night. I call you at 8 a.m.:

" _Chere_?"

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Yeah. Ah'm doing this-"

"Y' serious? _C'est incroyable! Je t'aime chere, tu verras, on va_ …"

"Okay, okay, but listen".

"Okay, phew!"

"…It's not… an easy thing to do, Ah'll need time, maybe months to…"

"It's okay, not a problem."

"Yah think we can meet this afternoon again? To talk about it?"

"Course! Wow _chere_ , this feels like Christmas, _tu sais_?"

"Yeah, but it's also… petrifying."

"I know, but we're gonna make it, y'll see, I'll help y'."

"See yah at 4, then? Same place?"

"See y' there, counting down the minutes."

"Okay."

"Love y', Rogue."

"Ah love yah. Bye."

At least we had the chance to say _I love you_ one more time.

There's like a crash of things inside of me, because I don't want to hurt Cody, he's a great guy but I'll… yeah, I'll definitely be hurting him. At the same time, there's no other road to take. This is the one. And I'm about to water the plants, like it even matters anymore, when my phone rings.

It's Kitty; there's a meeting at 10 am about some new recruits and how we can train them.

"Kit, Ah'm gonna tell yah something but yah gotta swear yah won't tell anyone."

"I promise, what is it?"

"Swear!"

"I swear, I swear! Oh my God, what happened?"

"Ah still can't believe it but Ah'll say it: Remy divorced and Ah'm gonna divorce too. We're getting back together".

I hear a squeal on the other side of the line, so high pitched I have to put the phone away from my ear for a moment:

"Kitty!"

"…ohmygodohmygod, are you for real? But that was three billion years ago, you guys still…? I mean, he, how will you…?"

"Ah have no idea what Ah'm doing, that's for sure but… Ah want to. This is the right thing to do, yah know?"

"Yeah! You guys are like the perfect couple! Well after Piotr and I, hehehe!"

"Right, low your voice, no one can know yet."

"Okay okay, oh my God!"

"Ah'll tell yah more when Ah get there."

"All right, I can't believe this!"

"Me neither."

I feel drunk in thrill and fear, it feels like I'm watching everything I do from the distance: taking a shower, getting dressed, taking the car to head to Bayville. I'll need time, yes, I can't just leave the house from one day to the other. I'll have to talk to him and slowly hint that I'm not feeling so well with our relationship lately, that he travels a lot, yeah, that's a good one; I'll just stay apart from "it's not you, it's me" 'cause that's pretty insulting to someone's intelligence, and he doesn't deserve that. It's almost 10, I gotta hurry up and I hope that meeting won't last long, I'm sure it'll be a nonstop yawn. How will it be to take my things away from the house and move in with Remy? My God, I laugh to myself but I'm also about to piss my pants 'cause this is the scariest thing I'll ever have to do. Not fighting mutants or bad guys, this is as scary as it gets. What will I tell you this afternoon? We'll be like runaways or something, this is too weird, I don't think we should kiss yet though, 'cause dang, I'm still carrying this ring around. I think…

Oh, so this is how it went. I didn't remember until now. Now I see it in some sort of slow motion: when I take a curve on the road, a truck and its cargo come sliding right in my direction. It's the last thing I see before…

I can't move. I'm here, this is a hospital, yeah, but I need to go and meet Remy, how long have I been here? My God, I need to see him, I need to tell him that I'm okay, that I'm just here…

I hear machines beeping and someone complain somewhere, like they're in pain. I feel like my whole body is glued to the bed and I can't even talk, there's something in my mouth. I think… yes, I moved my hand, I can… I need to… please… lady…

"Hello, Rogue!" Finally, she's here: "Let's see how you're doing." She puts a flashlight on my eye, yeah, the left one, 'cause the right one seems to be out of service.

"Is she awake?" This is another nurse. You guys have to tell Remy that I'll be there soon, please…

"Yes, hey calm down honey, she seems a bit stressed."

I'm shaking a hand and maybe moving a foot.

"Oh I know, wait."

Where's she going? Don't leave me alone, I need to…

"What's that?"

"It's a little something we use with kids sometimes but I think it's very helpful in this kind of situations too. If you were like this, wouldn't you want to say something?"

"Definitely."

"Rogue, listen to me: I'm going to slowly point at these letters in this board and when you want to choose one, you close your eye and keep it like that for few seconds. It means yes. Okay?"

What's wrong with me? Why can't I…?

I close my eye and open it again few moments later.

"Great. Now. A. B. C…"

She starts pronouncing letter after letter and now I'm really scared. I must be really fucked up.

"…H. I. J…"

I didn't know where I was, I was sort of dizzy and out there, but now I see.

"…P. Q. R…"

I close my eye.

"R. Write it down."

The other nurse does it and we start all over. I'm really, really fucked.

"…D…E… E? Okay."

I don't know if it's day or night, or where is everybody. Where are you, Remy? Are you around? And… is Cody around too? Oh, fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

"…Y?"

"I think this is a name. Remy."

"Is this someone's name, dear? Do you want to see this person?"

I shut my eye tight.

"Yes. Okay, we'll call him for you. Now, try to relax a little. Try to get some sleep."

Sleeping is all I've been doing, lady. I have to get up…

They leave and dim the lights a little, but I still make an effort to look down at myself. I see tubes and needles and stuff, and there's something on the right side of my face and head that's fucking me up.

Where are you, Remy?

 **Note: Right when you were thinking, damn, this fanfiction writer is mean, you can now see I'm not only mean but also evil. Nah, just kidding, I'm not a torturer who likes to put characters through pain, it's just that life is pretty messed up sometimes. Now, I forgot to mention in the previous chapter that I took Cody's idiotic nickname for Rogue (Possum) from the animated series, from the episode "Love in vain", in which I like the way our poor honey Remy is all jealous of that stupid guy Cody, but I hate the way she goes running at him. Come on, Rogue! Anyway, I like that in the end, Remy holds her, such a prince. Also, the lines "say you don't love me"; I don't love you"; "you just lied" I took them from the movie "Closer" that I completely adore. All that said! Next chapter will be from Remy's point of view. Thanks for reading and pretty please, tell me what you think of this whole thing.**


	6. Chapter 6: Songless

Disclaimer: I don't own the X-Men! 

**Note: This chapter is called this way because it's from Gambit's point of view.**

Chapter 6: Songless.

Where are you, _chere_?

Waited for you in the café til they closed, picturing how it'd be when you arrived, the words I'd say to reassure you and tell you that we got this, that if we've spent this whole time apart and we made it through, all we need is a little extra push to make things better. Well, this ain't just better: this is the best, you are the best, _cherie_ , you're perfect and I'm done with being anywhere further than an inch away from you.

But where are you?

I didn't call you that night 'cause I don't wanna put you in a situation there with that dickhead husband of yours. It'll be better if you manage things with him the way you consider better, at your own pace and by your own means, not triggered by a sneaky phone call from the guy you're dumping him for (I like the sound of that, by the way).

Even so, I couldn't stand it anymore on Friday. Rang you halfway through the morning, then in the afternoon, when I thought you might be alone. Nothing. One thing I'm sure of: it's gotta be something related to him. Maybe he found something out and you had a fight, maybe you told him already and you two are talking about it and you're trying to comfort him a bit, while he cries his guts out forever, 'cause let's face it, who wouldn't, when knowing you're dumping them?

You said you needed time which I completely get, but maybe for some reason things got out of hand.

Saturday became unbearable so I had to go stalk… ahem, check on you from a certain distance, at the fancy building where you live, just like I'd done not few times. Many times I saw you going up or down the entrance stairway, many more times I thought about approaching you. Some other times you were with him, holding hands; it always felt like a punch in the pit of the stomach but I know _chere_ , I know, you wouldn't have to tell me: I deserved it because I did the same, but worse. How could that moron be in my place, by your side? And how could I have put someone else in the place that belongs only to you? It all needs to be fixed and that's what we're doing now but it's time you quit playing _hide and seek_ and tell Remy where you are, _ma chere_.

I was about to go back home on Saturday night, when I spotted him, entering the building. But where are you?

I don't usually get up this early on Sundays, but today I've got this _fou_ idea that maybe he found something out and has you locked or something. I know you can fend for yourself and kick any guy's ass without breaking a sweat but what if he did something to you, while I'm here just pacing up and down? So I'll go there and see what happens.

My phone rings when I'm close to your building.

" _Allo_?"

"Hello, Remy? This is Storm."

That's odd.

"Stormy?! Long time no hear y', p'tite! How are y'? To what do I owe this pleasure?"

She makes a pause before continuing. I don't like this.

"I am fine, um… it is about Rogue."

 _Dieu._

"What 'bout her?"

"She… this is difficult..."

"WHAT? What happened?"

"She had an accident. A car crash".

I stop in my tracks and everything around gets dark.

"What? How's that?"

"She is in Bayville's hospital and she wants to see you."

"She want?, course, yeah I'll be there in a minute, so she's fine, right? How's she?"

"She is… they say she is not too well."

"What y' mean she's not too well? Ah?"

I'm retracing my steps in a rush, to go get my bike; it's parked a couple blocks away.

Speak Storm, _s'il vous plait_. Speak.

"You should come."

"Of course, tell her I'll be there in no time, why didn't y' tell me before?!"

"I didn't think it would be… appropriate."

"Right, okay, I'm on my way, Storm, please tell her I'm on my way."

I can't make this thing go fast enough, I think I ran through some red lights but I couldn't care less. Okay, if she wants to see me then that means she's not so bad, she's conscious, I bet it's a broken leg or something, but what's that?: _she's not too well,_ what the hell's that? Alright, whatever it is, this is just a little bump on the road, she'll get better and we'll retake it from there. In fact, ditch him already _chere_ , I'll take you home and take care of you. You're just fine Rogue, you'll be fine.

I make it to the hospital where everything seems out of place. Starting by you, _cherie,_ you're not supposed to be here; I'm not supposed to be here either, looking for you and asking these people where you are.

Intensive care unit, they say.

I go that way with legs made of lead. Why would she be in there? That's for people who are really messed up, why would she…? But she's talking and awake, she's getting better, but why do they keep her in…?

I turn around a corner of this white and blue hell and bump into him face to face. Goddamn it. This guy don't look well, he's had no sleep or has been… crying? Goddamn it, goddamn it a million times.

He don't say anything, just glares at me with a lost look, with scorn or defeat, I don't know with what and trust me, I don't care right now.

"Remy, you're here!" Kitty and Storm come over, I see Jean and Scott sitting back there.

"How's she?"

"Let us go this way" Storm says and grabs me by an arm, as we go and sit down in another corridor. The guy didn't move, he stayed standing there and suddenly I hate him even more, 'cause he's been the one by her side, in here and all of this time. And I hate myself too.

"How's she?" I repeat. I don't like the look on their faces.

"The doctors say she is not so well, that she could get better but…"

"Could? What does that mean, what does she have, what happened?"

"It was a truck, it crushed her car when she was going to the mansion, I was the one to call her and tell her to come and…" Kitty starts sobbing while I can hardly figure anything out.

"It is not your fault, Kitty, we all had the meeting and you happened to be the one to tell her, if it weren't you, it would have been any…"

"Wait wait, but what does she have? How, when was this?"

"It was… Thursday morning, yeah."

This sure must be some sick joke.

Storm starts talking and I try to make some meaning out of her words, but it's hard to. Maybe? Maybe she could get better?

"Who's her doctor? Where are…? I gotta talk to them."

"Remy, wait!" I hear them but I'm already moving.

These people clearly have no idea what they're talking about, I gotta find someone here who makes sense.

"You're Rogue's doctor? I gotta talk to Rogue's doctor, where's he?"

"Sir, you can't be here!"

One of them must know something, who's the one…?

"Who's her doctor? Who's taking care of Rogue?"

"I will call her, all right? I'll call Dr. Grant but please wait outside, in the corridor, okay?"

I go back outside and wait an eternity. Storm and Kitty come near me, my head is about to explode.

"I'm Dr. Grant and you are…?" a lady in a white coat shows up.

"How's Rogue? There must be something we can do, right? Y' need money? I'll give y' money but y' do what y' gotta do to fix her."

This woman talks about Rogue and all the words are so disconnected to me, I need to put them together with lines: her head, brain, trauma, intern organs, bleeding, I hear mumbo jumbo but I need to know if she'll be alright.

"At this point it's hard to say, anything could happen. We're doing our best to keep her stable. If you excuse me."

My mind is blank for a while. Maybe I'm just waiting for something to happen all of a sudden, that indicates me this ain't real. Then something clicks:

"I gotta see her."

"Yes, just a moment" Storm goes somewhere and comes back moments later with a nurse.

"You must be Remy, right?" I nod. "Please come with me."

I'm about to follow her but Storm tells me something in a low voice:

"I need to tell you that she doesn't look… well. You need to be prepared for that."

From another planet I see myself nodding again, then going where the nurse leads me. As I walk, I try to find a culprit for this: the X-Men, the truck's driver, me? Maybe if we hadn't seen each other the previous day the chain of facts of the next day would have been different, making her get up at another time and heading to the institute 10 seconds earlier or later, that would have kept her from the accident and from all of this. And what if she was all stressed out because of our conversation? What if she wasn't paying enough attention to the road, thinking of it? It's enough to drive me insane.

They ask me to wash my hands, then I'm putting on one of those paper robes and a cap.

"How's she?" I ask for the hundredth time today. "She's conscious, right? She can talk?"  
"She's been conscious for brief moments only, she can't talk because of the intubation."

"But she said she wanted to see me?"

"Something like that" she hands me a paper mask: "We just presented her a board with letters so she could spell what she wanted to say. She spelled your name."

I can't even begin to imagine how that feels, _chere,_ being stuck in there like in a prison. And when you have the chance to say something, you think of me. I think of you too, Rogue. Always have.

"Is she in pain?"

"Not likely, we're giving her drugs for that."

We enter this large room plagued with machines and plastic stuff everywhere. You're behind one of these curtains but which one?

"You have ten minutes. And talk to her, I'm sure she'd like that" the nurse leaves.

And here you are, _chere,_ like I never left you.

Behind the curtain thing there's a big bed. I don't see the tubes, the things they got you connected to, the black bruises in your face, my God, around your eyes and the bandages in your head, that hide your hair and your beautiful white bangs; I don't see the white tapes on you, the neck brace, your breathing that seems a little heavy and how underneath this thin sheet, more tubes and electrodes and whatever they are, are attached to you _. Non cherie_ , I don't see any of that. I only see you, like I've seen you in my head during all this time we wasted; it seems so precious, now that it's gone with no turning back.

"I'm here, _chere_ , can y' hear me?" I'm expecting you open your eyes for a moment, will you? "I know y' couldn't make it to our date the other day but it's okay, no worries, we'll reschedule it". What can I say that could make you wake up? I shouldn't give too much thought to it, I'll just let things out. "Was a lil' concerned, I'll give y' that, but now I'm not 'cause I know y'll get better and we'll… we'll do all the things we postponed, we'll make up for all of this time, Rogue, y'll see, it's never too late, remember? Never". Your arm looks okay, at least from the elbow down 'cause there are some scratches around your shoulder. "I hadn't touched you in so long, it's pretty ridiculous. This hand… remember when I first touched it, that day in the institute? 'Twas this one, I remember. It looks the same, all pretty and soft". I lightly caress your knuckles, the thin lines in them, the shadow of a blue vein, your fingers; I wait for them to move even if just a little, but it doesn't happen. " _Chere,_ y' have to be strong for this one, 'kay? I know y' are but try to be extra tough this time, I know y' can. Promise me." Open your eyes, look at me, _s'il te plait… Juste pour un moment_ … "Okay. Alright, I'll take that as a _yes_. I love y', Rogue, y' know that, don't y'? I've never stopped loving y', not even a sec".

Come on _cherie_ , open your eyes…

"I'll be here _chere_ , waiting for y'. I won't leave ever again. I'm here."

They come and kick me out and I don't know anything anymore. I don't even realize when I take the robe and those things off, I just suddenly find myself back in the corridor. I don't wanna be around these people, I need to go somewhere else.

At the very end of the corridor, there's something like a courtyard and I see…

It's a chapel and there's no one in it, thank God, right? Thank God life's such a piece of shit too.

My brain feels like a heavy load inside my head. What are y' thinking _chere_ , what are y' feelin? There must be something I can do, I have to think, I…

Someone enters the room and comes to sit on the same bench as me, at the opposite edge of it. I know who it is.

I don't think we need this right now, _homme_. She don't need this, this won't help her.

"We've never been introduced. But I know who you are."

Not now.

What is this?

I don't move and after a long silence, he goes on:

"She talks in her sleep… She… has said your name many times, too many to count. I started, as stupid as that is, but I lost track. It was pointless, anyway".

He's making an effort to talk. Should I feel sorry for him? I don't. He's had her long enough.

"I never told her that, I didn't want her to feel bad about it or… that she'd feel sorry for me. Even more, that is. And… there she is, in that… in this state and when she finally wakes up and says something, what does she say? Your name. Not her husband's, but yours." He chuckles. Stop this, man. "That shows that even if I have her… signature on a piece of paper and… her toothbrush besides mine… you're the one who has her soul". I don't make a sound. This is too twisted.

"And look at us now, you're here, as desperate as I am. I can't blame you, though, Rogue's a woman that could drive any man crazy, right?"

He's staring at me and I won't answer. I'm just waiting for this cringe worthy monologue to be over.

"Have you two been seeing each oth-"

"No" I cut him off right away; he don't look like he believes me, gotta make it convincing: "No, we only had coffee a couple times, some time ago. That was it, I swear."

He nods and looks into empty space. I think he bought it and it's technically true, except it wasn't only twice. Except we kissed once. And except she just decided to leave him and come with me.

None of this is important right now, is it? Damn, I'd rather see her fine and well by his side, than the way she is now and something tells me he might think the exact same thing. Perhaps the moment I gave in and went along with everyone to marry Bella, I ruined us all, the four of us.

And this, why now? Why…?

Someone's coming. I turn around towards the door the same moment I hear it:

"Guys…!"

I jump out of my seat and I'm vaguely aware I've just pushed the guy out of the way.

It's Kitty. She's crying.

What…?

 **Note: oh man, I feel like crap now. Believe it or not, I spent the whole day feeling genuinely sad because of this. The thing is that in order to write, I need to feel the things I'm gonna write. Not think about the words, or what words would sound better, I just need to see the scene, the situation as clear as I can up in my head, and feel as truly as possible what the characters are going through. So all of this has made me a bit depressed; I hope that makes you feel better about me being so evil :-( I can already picture TX Peppa throwing a shoe or a tomato at me. Btw, Remy's line "Like I never left you" I took it from the comics, he says that to her in X-Men Legacy but I don't remember in which issue. Okay, I'll go quietly sob somewhere. 'Til next chapter and thanks for reading!**


	7. Chapter 7: All I wanted

Disclaimer: I don't own the X-Men!

Note: This chap's title is a song from Paramore.

Chapter 7: All I wanted.

 _I'd never been here before._

 _I kinda like it. It's one of those industrial type apartments, with some brick walls and metallic stairs up there, where do they lead to? I'll find out later. There's a big bed, couches and a bunch of things scattered, a suitcase and some bags. I take a look out the large window, only to see another building very close, so much that hardly any sunlight comes in. On a bookshelf, I see some vinyls and a record player, I wonder if it works; it probably does. That looks like one of my suitcases, by the way. Then the door opens up, you come in carrying two large boxes._

 _"Voilà! Last ones, y' sure got yourself plenty of books, chere" you say and place them there on the floor. Then you approach me: "Hey, why don't we organize all this stuff later? Y' can give this place your touch, anything y' want, but I think that bed's begging for us to use it for the first time"._

 _A kiss on my hand, then on my forehead, then you kiss my lips. Hadn't it been centuries since we were like this? Millenniums, freaking millions of years plus a lifetime of wanting exactly everything that's surrounding me right now._

 _"What are we doing here?" I don't know very well what I'm saying._

 _"Let me think" you lift me up and carry me to the bed, then lay me there with you on top: "Looks like we're about to make love, oui."_

 _This feels so good it scares me a little, so I just let myself be wrapped in it, smiling and staring at you, like if I close my eyes or look away for a moment, you could vanish._

 _"Y' okay?" Of course you notice it; you could always read me, you're the only one I've always felt naked in front of._

 _"Yeah." I love your hair; it's brown and it's longer again, I'm running my fingers through it and I could do it for hours. "Ah just don't wanna leave."_

 _"Then don't, we can stay here forever. Or at least til we run out of food and gotta go find us some more."_

 _"Okay… hmmm…"_

 _"…"_

 _But I do close my eyes and I think there are many different ways to die. You can die of sadness, of happiness, of excitement, of horror, metaphorically, sure, but I do wonder if someone has actually died solely from a feeling. And right now, I'm dying of love, or dying in love, which ever works better, but not like I was dying all of this time, swimming in a pit of memories and impossibilities; this moment feels like it's too much for me to handle so I die and then I'm alive again, and repeat. Does it make sense? No? Well all I'm trying to say is: I love you, Remy LeBeau, hun. You are and you were always the one._

 _We're at the mansion, just visiting. All of those messed up war times are over and things got better. We're all in the living room and everyone's having a good time and all of a sudden I realize that, holly crap, we're old as heck. Weren't we teenagers about three seconds ago? Wasn't, I don't know, Jamie, like 12 when he first got here? Now we're all supposed to be grown ups and I'm still not sure what all that's about. I thought I knew it, before, when I was married to Cody, but now I remember being an adult is not quite the best thing. So maybe I should just be who I was always supposed to be: this person sitting beside you, Rem, with your arm around me as the two of us share a cup of hot chocolate._

 _"What if he hates me? Ah mean Ah'm still that witch, yah know? That other mean lady."_

 _"Non, non, not gonna happen chere, he'll love y' before y' even got more time to worry 'bout it, y'll see." You're putting your trench coat on as you head to the door._

 _"Ah'm not good with kids anyway, what's cool for kids nowadays?, what cartoons do they watch? Do they even watch cartoons? What should Ah talk 'bout with him? Hey this ain't funny, mister! I'm freaking out here."_

 _"Noticed! Just relax, y' guys will get along just fine, hm?"_

 _"Ah'll do my best, really."_

 _"I know. And I don't know how in the world anyone could not love y'. He will" we have a little peck and then you leave. You'll pick him up and bring him here, then we'll go for ice cream. Now this is sounding too much like one of those family comedy flicks. Am I the good or the bad guy? Considering I moved in here straight from my ex's house, even before we signed the papers, I think it's best not to answer that question. I laugh a little because, who cares? Everything's taking its course now, the dust is settling… it's all good._

 _We're in the subway together, I'm holding on to you 'cause it's super crowded and I couldn't find a free spot to hold on to. We're two anonym souls in here, two dots that walk around together in a sea of many more._

 _"Root beer or whiskey?"_

 _"Y' know can't live without a good ol' bourbon, chere."_

 _"Okay, there yah go" I put a bottle in the cart. "But we should bring some of these babies too" I pick up a six pack. Grocery shopping had never felt this great, now that you're with me._

 _Our tub is not too large but we've managed to fit the both of us in it comfortably. My back's lying against your chest, the lights are dim and though my fingertips are getting wrinkly, I don't plan on going anywhere._

 _"Yah wanna go to that café some time?"_

 _"Dunno" you whisper in my ear: "Do y'?"_

 _"Ah'd like to. Just to remind us not to take anything for granted, that… nothing's set in stone and we're the ones who decide which road to take. And Ah like this road."_

 _"Really?"_

 _"Uhumm."_

 _"Good, 'cause I love it." I can only hear the tiny sounds the water and bubbles make, and your voice:_ "…but it's okay, no worries, we'll reschedule it".

This is your voice, but it's clearer and louder, I feel I can almost touch it.

"…was a lil' concerned, I'll give y' that, but now I'm not 'cause I know y'll get better…"

Oh yeah, because I'm stuck in here… see? I told you I became an expert in imagining stuff with you. You think we'll get the chance to do all of that? Moving in together, me meeting your son, sharing a life? What's keeping us apart now? This ridiculous accident, or every stupid action we ever made?

It's weird to see that the odds finally turned against us. Maybe they got sick of trying to help.

And… you're finally here.

"…it's never too late, remember? Never…"

I want to move and let you know I can hear you.

I see you… I can't move but I see you, Rem… look at me, stop staring at my damn hand, eyes up here, come on, my God, you're here…

"…I'll be here _chere_ , waiting for y'. I won't leave ever again. I'm here…"

I'm here too. Everything's dark again but I'm here too.

I don't hear you anymore, you must be gone. Don't go…

Either way, it's good to know you're so close, closer than we'd been in a long time. Behind my eyes, warm tears are forming and I feel them leaving a wet path on the sides of my face, at least the left side.

And I don't know anything anymore.

What is this?

Hm?

I guess it's easy to wish you'd done something, once you're face to face with how brief life is. Once the apparent danger of living is gone. That's how we should live, right? With less fear and more… guts. I mean, guts to do what you know you want to do, to take chances. This is such a short existence and we have to make a mess out of it, with all of the bullshit we tell ourselves, why do we lie to ourselves and to everyone? We think things will be better later on… but sometimes, there's no _later on_.

They say (who are _they_?) that we regret more the things we didn't do, than the things we did. Well I do regret all of the things we couldn't and didn't do. All of the things that could have existed, the places we could have gone together and the words we never said. Don't you? I'm sure you do, but don't feel guilty, hun. We're only human, just flawed and trying to cope the best we can.

I told you so: us, humans, we're nothing but stupid.

There's something else too, stuff I don't regret. Stuff that I… that it's what I am, that makes me who I am, and it's mainly you. In the end, there seems to be nothing else besides the ones we love. The one I love. You know all of those times I cursed you? Sorry about that; the truth is that I love you. I got to love you, when was that? Ages ago, when you looked at me like you already knew me, and came to sit at my table when I was all lost. I see you in the corridors of the mansion, meeting me _by chance_ and then not so much by chance, I see your amazing eyes on me, your arms, I like your arms a lot. And all of the time that was wasted seems like an instant now, compared to the times we could actually be. My heart pounding fast in my ears as we went to meet in that café, both of us sneaking away to meet for a couple hours, so we could remember we were indeed alive. What a pair. Every time we kissed, every time we said good bye… well, won't the Sun explode one day and we'll all be fried by then? But at least you and I happened, even if for some moments. At least we loved each other and that was real. That's real. It'll always be. Like that night at the boulevard, I'm eating caramel popcorn and you, chicken wings, and I just feel awesome and brand new, in spite of my previous shitty life. And you're with me, then we're in your car and you already feel like home, Remy. You turn the radio on and this music's in my head as you drive by and we leave everything behind.

We're in your car and I'm seeing the streets pass by.

This is home.

"I really like y', Rogue" you say. Something tingly erupts inside of me and I smile and smile like an idiot.

Oh, I like you too, Rem. I do…

 **END.**

 **Note: Well, there you have it. I feel like I have a lot to say after this finale. First off, I know it sucks that it's not a happy ending, but life doesn't always have a happy ending, does it? And I just wanted to emphasize the regret, the "we should take chances while we have them" thing. Because we should, in real life, or so I think. Also, there's a short story I inspired myself in for this fanfic. It's called, too "Deep in a dream of you" (when I read that title I knew I had to write a fic with it) and it's by a writer named Alfredo Bryce Echenique. In that story, the guy is in a hospital bed remembering all of the things with this girl he loved but they could never actually be together; it's a different story, the things that happen to them, but I liked the concept.**

 **And hey, let's cheer up: I've written 23 fics so far, and only in 2 of them I've killed either Rogue or Remy, so that's a nice record I'd say, it's 8.7% of stories with a sad ass, death-definite ending. So, please don't leave without telling me your impressions and thanks so much for reading this. Til next fic!**

 **P.S.: Just in case there's any doubt about it, at the beginning of this chap, yes, she's imagining those things. That's why I thought I should put that in italics, 'cause it's made up stuff, unlike in the previous chaps, that it's all memories.**

 **P.S.: I had another name for this chap but then, few hours after publishing it, I remembered this song (All I wanted, from Paramore), and after pulling out all of the hairs in my head in desperation, I decided to come back to the chap and change the title for this one. I think it fits better.**


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